I hold my little dog Mei-mei in my arm and watch her sleeping carefully. She keeps cramping because of the fatal illness. Although I hold her, she seems to leave me at anytime. Her cramp keeps accompany with her breath and I count it one by one gradually. Surprisingly, it doesnít tire me at all and I wish I could count it for good.
A little room with a little cage is filled with the smell of medicine. Above the cage, one pot has half liquid medicine in it and the empty three pots lie down on it. The red liquid medicine has been a part of Mei-meiís breakfast and diner. I am glad that she is willing to take it but itís sad that her little stomach and blood vessels are occupied by the medicine. Also, under her dense fur, there are several pinpricks, just like parasites, living in her thin body.
The illness never stops attacking her. Her legs and body keep cramping but she still opens her adorable eyes bravely to look around and look at me. Although her beautiful eyes are covered with green secretion, she is still like an angel when the time I brought her home from the pet store. The virus keeps devouring her nerve so she no longer runs and jumps bouncingly like before. What I can do now is holding her tightly and giving her sense of security. I know that I donít have much time to hold her because I will let her go. As long as I let her go, she will never feel pain and depress about her cramp. Iím convinced that I would be her mother again in her next life.
The little room with an empty cage will have no smell of medicine and I will never hear Mei-mei bark at me and follow my steps anymore.